


this is why we can't have nice things

by okaynextcrisis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13157997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaynextcrisis/pseuds/okaynextcrisis
Summary: In the midst of a mission, Qui and Tahl share a meal.  Pre-JA.





	this is why we can't have nice things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [happygiraffe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/happygiraffe/gifts).



> For Quitahl + "happy medium." I had SUCH a good time writing this; I hope you enjoy it, too. Happy holidays!

Tahl lifted delicate eyebrows to gaze doubtfully at the limp weeds cupped in Qui-Gon’s hands.From the disdainful tilt of her head, she could have been critiquing the house speciality of the finest Coruscanti restaurant, and not soaking wet in an Outer Rim jungle, rain dripping from her hair, huddled under an oversized verdant frond that was, to date, Qui-Gon’s favorite thing about the planet Felucia.“And this is…”

“I’m calling it medium rare,” he tried, much as he had tried to cook the native herb over the few sparks they had managed, painstakingly, to coax into a pitiful fire, and, with the sacrifice of both of their cloaks, to shelter from the deluge.

Tahl’s full lips curved upwards, her green-gold eyes brightening with private amusement, and he braced himself for the inevitable, well-crafted blow: a sly reminder that he had bought the ship (or won it in an only slightly Force-assisted hand of sabacc, an entirely negligible distinction in Qui-Gon’s mind, albeit one he might have neglected to mention to Tahl) that had crashed and stranded them here, or a wry allusion to his earlier declaration, full of brash, misplaced confidence, that it was definitely not going to rain.

“I suppose wilted greens are…very trendy,” she said at last.

His grin at the unexpected stay of execution broke wide across his face.“Only the very best for you.”

She deftly plucked a damp weed from his palm, her eyes scolding him, a reluctant smile pulling at her mouth.Her shoulder brushed his as she leaned closer to him—or further away from the rain.“I can’t wait to see the very best of spacecrafts that’s going to fly me off this mud hole.”


End file.
